


Breathe

by RavenDarkwood



Series: Halloween [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Happy halloween, Hotel Elysium au, Things in jars gorey, Written based off an au on tumblr, if that bothers you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 12:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12581736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenDarkwood/pseuds/RavenDarkwood
Summary: In.Out.In.Out.Wet?





	Breathe

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Wet?

In.

Out.

Metalic?

In.

Out.

Open.

Red.

He sat up.

Tank.

Red.

Liquid.

He knew all of these words and what they meant, but he couldn’t place where he had learned them. He sat in a lidless tank, full nearly of a red liquid. He sat there, eyes blurry as he turned to look at his surroundings.

In.

_Drowning._

The breath got stuck in his throat. He was choking. His body convulsed as he a tried to take in air (need air clear body need air clear body) two forces seemingly battling inside of his body, both wanting control. He grabbed the side of the tank as he body tried to cough, air trying to take the place of the blood-

He had leaned too far.

The whole tank fell on the ground and shattered, though it didn’t hurt. The same way that his chest didn’t hurt and his head didn’t swim as he tried to clear his body of the liquid he had been breathing before. As suddenly as it had started he finally managed to cough up that last bit of red liquid, which joined the rest of the puddle of red liquid on the ground.

In.

Out.

Clean.

In.

Hard skin (?) touched equally hard glass as he pushed himself off of the floor, going back to looking around the room. It was a laboratory. With vials and beakers and things that he both recognized, and didn’t recognize at all.

He wasn’t alone in the room.

There, in a chair next to the window, was a person. A very still, very old looking person with circular glasses. An open book rested in his lap.

He walked over, ignoring the horrible sound that his feet gave as they scratched against the glass. It didn’t hurt.

He didn’t bear the corpse any mind, instead turning to look down at the book.

It was blurry. He couldn’t read it.

He looked at the now blurry corpse. At the glasses on his nose. He plucked the glasses off of the corpse, not noticing the eyes behind the glasses.

Not blurry any longer he turned his sight back to the book, the journal as he began to look through it quickly. He could read the language, but his eyes only picked up words here and there. An entire chapter was labeled ‘Homunculus’, though the pages were scratched out. The following chapters were the same way, each labeled something like ‘patchwork’, or ‘osiris’, but they were only scratched out to the point of illegibility. The final chapter was titled ‘galatea’. It was legible.

He flipped through the next few pages, only stopping when he found a diagram. Of a male human body. The diagram was labeled ‘bone china’ with a little offshoot note reading ‘how many needed?’ and a bit of math. There was another math problem down in the corner, next to this there was a small note of ‘sanguine’, a note of ‘liters’, a drawing of a tank ( _the tank_ ). In the very bottom corner of the page, there was a drawn-out symbol of a triangle with a straight line through the top angle.

He closed the book sharply.

Out.

In.

Something had slipped out slightly from under the front cover as he had closed it.

He opened it again.

The inside of the front cover only had four words written; _Matthieu, fils de Guillaume._

It hurt.

A letter rested on the side cover.

_To Matthew Williams._

Out.

Matthew wasn’t sure how long he had been holding his breath. He didn’t actually need to breathe.

Matthew wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there, staring at the letter. He didn’t make any move to take it.

Matthew looked around the room again. A rectangular room with one entire wall lined with windows ( _it was once a greenhouse_ ), across from the windows there was just… shelves upon desks upon storage cabinets, all designed for one specific purpose. There were jars on some of the shelves, dead, almost human ( _homunculus_ ) floating inside of liquids. The tank had shattered on the ground, the red liquid ( _sanguine; blood_ ) had started drying on the ground. Matthew thought (he knew) that if he started looking he would find a furnace and remains. _So many remains. So many tries, so many attempts, and none had worked so far he was running out of time-_

Matthew jumped, finally turning to see straight in front of him, his own reflection startling him. He tried to let out a chuckle, but he had forgotten to breathe back in.

In.

Matthew walked towards the mirror, only pausing when he noticed that as he got closer he was able to see the corpse in the mirror.

The corpse with the exact same eyes.

Out.

Matthew raised his hand to touch his eyes. They were glass. As his hands moved there was a small grinding sound. In the mirror, he could see his exposed, doll-like joints on his fingers. He raised his hand to his hair, but he couldn’t tell if it was real. He couldn’t feel.

In.

As he examined his body he saw that same triangle-with-the-line-through-the-top from the journal carved into the inside of his wrist. Below that there was a small circle with a little cross coming out the bottom with a small, wide u coming out the top. The final symbol was two little circles with tails, both following each other but also stuck in place.

Out.

He wasn’t wearing any clothes.

In.

He was still carrying the journal.

Out.

He started looking around, eyes widely searching around for something. Anything.

In.

There was a stool next to the table where the tank used to lay.

Out.

Clothes were folded up on the stool, and lace-up boots sitting on the floor in front of the stool.

In.

Matthew’s grip tightened on the journal, only setting it aside for the few minutes that it took him to get dressed. He then grabbed the journal again, starting off through the building to find a way out.

_Bodies. So many bodies._

_Teeth. Were his teeth…_

_Bones. How many..._

_A furnace._

_Molds._

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Outside the sun was shining down on a decaying forest. The cottage looked very nice from the outside, with a small sign that said ‘ _Le Jardin’._

Matthew Williams entered the woods with a name, a journal, and knowledge that maybe… maybe he would have rather not known.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.


End file.
